If you listen to Shane's podcasts, you probably remember the story where he broke a wicker chair when he was fat, and later again at Lisa's house. He said he was devastated and had told Lisa he had to go to the bathroom. This is based off of that story.

"Don't sit in the wicker," his father laughed. "Fatass." Shane's heart dropped a little more. Being so overweight, he had broken his grandmother's wicker chair. His drunken father had been rattling on about it all day.

"Dad, stop," he mumbled tiredly. His father hit him harshly in the stomach.

"Don't talk to me that way, Fatass."

After that day, Shane would try his very best to avoid wicker furniture. It was a strange fear, but a fear nonetheless. Years later, after his father was gone, Shane had a girlfriend. He laughed with his girlfriend as she dragged him into her house and hugged him.

"Oh my god, you have to watch this video on Youtube," Lisa giggled. "It's by-oh, sit over here. We can share the seat."

Shane slowly crept over to the wicker chair and unintentionally winced.

"Pull up Youtube, I'll grab some soda," Lisa said, heading toward the kitchen. Once she was gone, Shane took a deep breath. It was going to be fine. He wasn't overweight anymore. He was actually pretty skinny. So he reached behind him, gripped the armrests, and sat down.

CRACK!

Shane felt tears burning in his eyes. He had broken the chair. Lisa came into the room cradling two Diet Cokes that she instantly dropped when she saw Shane.

"Are you okay?" She gasped between laughs. She extended her arm and helped Shane up. He gave her a short laugh in return.

"Uh, yeah, totally. I need to go to the bathroom." He hurried to Lisa's bathroom and tried his best not to slam the door. But the thud shook the walls, and seemed to shake the tears out of him as well.

Shane clutched his stomach and accidentally let a few tears escape. His father stood from his chair, shaking his beer at him. Drops of the alcoholic liquid splashed across Shane's face and mixed with his tears.

"Are you crying? MEN don't cry, Fatass," his father bellowed. Shane shook his head quickly and winced.

"No, I-"
"NO? Don't LIE to me, you little bitch!" He thrust his fist into Shane's face, sending him flying to the ground with a thud.

"Someday, I'll get away from you. I'll have a great life, and I'll forget everything you've ever done or said to me," Shane muttered softly.

But he never had forgotten. He tried to muffle his sobs by using toilet paper, but it didn't help and just tasted bad. A knock, then another, came to the door.
"Shaney?" Lisa called. "Are you okay?"

Shane didn't answer, afraid of his voice shaking in the way that it does when he cries. He heard a click of the door being unlocked, and Lisa walked in to kneel by Shane on the floor.

"What if I was taking a shit?" Shane smiled shakily.

"My shits are probably worse. It's okay," Lisa laughed. "What's wrong, Shaney?"
"The chair-"
"The chair? Oh! Don't worry, that was old anyways. I never really liked it."
"No, it's just..I broke it because I was so fat, and my dad always told me I would always fail, but I never believed him and-"

"You're not a fail."

"I'm fat."

"You're not fat."
"I'm-"

"You're perfect," Lisa said. She leaned forward and kissed him long and hard. It was one of the most passionate kisses they had ever had. And it had happened on a bathroom floor.